Flicker (3 page)

Chapter 4

One of the down sides of flickering is
reliving things I'd rather not repeat. Like the safety assembly
with Stride Right. It was bad enough the first time, having to
watch him strut around like he's all important, but listening to
him a second time is unbearable.

I focus on a piece of hair dangling from the
collar of the girl in front of me. It flutters in a breeze I can't
feel, then drifts to the darkness at my feet.

While I'm staring at the floor a sense
of dread sneaks up on me. I lean my head back on the seat and close
my eyes.
How can I do it better this
time?

"Common sense will save you in most
situations. Unfortunately," the cop chuckles, "not a lot of you
have any common sense, so that's why I'm here."

Oh good, it's almost over.

The same hushed whispers pass through the
auditorium after the cop leaves the stage. I want nothing more than
to sneak out the back door, but I spot Cameron ahead of me, walking
alone, the other kids moving around him like they’re afraid to get
too close. If he can face the entire school and the things they say
about him, I can deal with one boy.

Robbie’s at my locker. "I texted you last
night…"

This time I stop the lie before it can form,
but the hurt is still in his eyes. "Robbie, I think we need to
talk."

His eyes dart to my locker, then down at our
feet.

Words won't come.

He looks up. "You don't want to see me
anymore?"

Huh? My brows crinkle and my heart
drops to my stomach.
How did he know
that?

"You've been acting different the past
couple weeks. That's why I wanted to talk to you last night."

"It is?" Don't tell me he wanted to break up
with me.

He toes the ground with his sneaker and
leans against the locker. "There's no point dragging this out if
you aren't feeling it. Besides, I knew what people said about you
before we started going out."

I really can't escape my reputation.

"You're a great guy and all but—"

"Don't go there." He leans close but his
dark eyes don't have the same coldness they did last time. "I just
wish you'd had the balls to say something when you decided we were
over."

"What do you mean?" I mean, I know what he
means, but how could he know that's how I felt?

"You walk around like you've got some secret
you don't want to share. I thought that maybe when we started
dating you'd let me in, but I don't know you any better than I did
two months ago." He gives the locker a final shove before turning
on his heel and stalking away.

I don't feel the same anguish as before, but
this still sucks. I close my locker and walk slowly to class.

*****

This time I grab a hat from my locker and
shove on my sunglasses before venturing home. I've learned that no
matter how many things I'm able to change, the weather isn't one of
them. If it's sunny today, it's sunny today.

Feeling the warmth wash over me, I grip the
steering wheel and take slow, deep breaths. After a few hard
blinks, my eyes finally focus. That's something else I've figured
out. I can't be jumping back every time I'm in a car or train, as I
realized too late on my freshman field trip, so I'm teaching my
body to fight what comes naturally.

Up ahead is a section of road I call the
Strand. There's nothing special about this particular chunk of
black top, at least not to anyone else. For me it's where I come
when I want to flicker. The precision of the farmer who planted
these trees dozens of year ago, combined with the angle of the
mid-afternoon sun, makes it my go-to place when I need to go
back.

I usually take different routes home on the
days I want to… well, continue with my day, but Robbie has me
distracted.

His words hit me harder than I thought they
would. Maybe because I expected him to change what he said. But
flickering doesn't change who I am, or why I can't let anyone get
too close.

It's not fair to him, or anyone else that
really tries to get to know me, but I can't risk anyone knowing the
truth. If I let them get too close I might slip up, and who knows
what might happen to me. I've seen what they do to my dad—the
needles, the brain scans, more drugs than anyone should have to
take without getting some kind of pleasure out of it—and he has a
legitimate disease. I don't need some doctor poking around inside
my skull to tell me something I already know.

I'm a freak.

Chapter 5

I breathe a sigh of relief when I pull into
the driveway. So many people take it for granted that when you get
in your car and drive someplace you'll actually get there. I'm
especially happy to be home. It's not much, but it's a haven for
me, even though my parents don't know about my condition. Since
they don't have any other kids to compare me to they probably
assume my quirks are just normal teenage stuff.

Dad's on the couch reading with the TV on
low. Neither one of us can stand complete silence. My solution is
my iPod, but I haven't been able to convince him to get one for
himself. He says he's happy with the boob tube.

Dropping my bag against the coffee table, I
sink into the spot next to him.

His eyebrow lifts, his clear eyes studying
me. "Rough day?"

"You could say that." I feel like I haven't
slept in two days. Because I haven't.

"Anything you need to talk about?"

Let's see. I dumped my boyfriend—twice—and
the guys at school apparently have some sort of warning system
about me. "Not really. A cop came to school to talk to us about
safety. Because of that kidnapping." My fingers drift to my temple
before I catch myself.

His frown deepens. "Another one?"

"Not yet. But soon."

"Mom refilled your prescription last week.
There should be a new bottle in your bathroom."

My parents know I get migraines, they just
don't know why. No one does. So far I've been able to skate through
doctors' appointments without any kind of brain scans. God knows
what the hell they'd find inside my head.

Dad pats my leg and smiles. "Go take
something and lie down for a little while. I'll wake you up for
dinner."

I nod at the kitchen and the ceramic bowl I
know is on the table. "Did you take yours?"

His smile tightens. "Of course."

*****

Music plays just loud enough to drown out
the silence. Any louder and Dad will pester me about needing to
rest. I grab my cell phone from the front pocket of my bag and
press Amelia's name.

"Dude, what's up? I saw you talking to
Robbie in the hall and he did not look happy." Amelia never was one
to beat around the bush.

I sigh.

"Really? I thought you liked him."

And this is why Amelia is my best friend.
Most times I don't even have to tell her what's going on and she
knows. That makes it hard with the stuff I have to keep from her,
but I love not having to explain my every waking thought about
everything else.

"I do. I mean, I did. I just…" I'm gonna
have to come up with a better explanation than this. You'd think
I'd be used to it by now. "I guess it got boring."

Amelia laughs. "You mean now that you got
him it's boring. One of these days you're gonna to have to stick
around once the chasing part is over."

My fingers curl tightly around the phone.
"Is that what people say about me? That I just play games? Because
that's totally not what I'm about."

Her laughter stops. "Sorry. No, that's not
what I mean. It's just," she clears her throat, "you've never dated
anyone more than a couple months. I know we're not trying to get
married or anything, but you've got a track record, babe."

I flop back on my bed and stare at the
ceiling. "You have a point." It's not the right point, but it's a
point.

The music on her end gets louder and she
raises her voice to compensate. "So what'd you think of Stride
Right's little talk today?"

"Ugh, don't remind me. I felt like it went
on forever."

"And that cop! What an ass." Amelia inhales
sharply. "Did you see Cameron in there?"

Cameron's dark features sweep through my
mind and I remember the way he stopped me in my tracks two
different times today. Well, really four, but who's counting?
"Yeah, and I'm worried about him."

"Because of his sister?"

"Well yeah. This hasn't happened since Katie
disappeared."

"Do you think the police will want to talk
to him again?"

I'd thought of nothing else since I last saw
him. Normally I'd have talked to him by now but it occurs to me
that I haven't actually spoken to him since class yesterday.

A light knock on my door interrupts my
thoughts.

"Hey, I gotta go. I'm supposed to be
sleeping and someone's at my door."

"Another migraine?"

"One's on its way."

"Will you be in school tomorrow?"

"Yeah." If I skipped every time I had a
headache I'd be twenty-four before I graduated. I toss the phone
across the floor and roll so I'm facing the wall. "Come in."

"Is it bad?"

I shift to my back as Mom sits on the edge
of the bed. As if on cue a sharp stab pierces through my right ear
towards the top of my head. "Not yet."

She touches the side of my face, her cool
fingers winding their way through my hair until they're tucked
behind my ear and pressing into the base of my skull, just the way
I like it. "I worry about you. It seems like they're coming more
often."

Only when I fail tests. Or forget to pay
attention to where I'm at.

"Your dad and I want bring you in for more
tests."

But he's on my
side!
I sit up and her hand drops to my shoulder.
"Really? Dad said that?"

She lowers her hand to her lap and twists
her wedding band. "Well, it was my idea and he didn't disagree. At
least not much."

That makes me feel a little better.

"I hate seeing you like this. You've lost
weight and sometime your eyes seem… I don't know… hollow. Like
there's something eating away at you."

My hand moves over hers. I lean close to
look in her eyes. "Mom, I'm fine. The pills work great and I just
need to try to get more sleep. Please don’t make me go to the
doctor."

She chews her lip. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah."
Just
please don't take me to a doctor.

A deep sigh makes her chest rise, then fall.
She seems about to say something else, but changes her mind and
instead caresses my face once more before standing. "Dinner will be
ready in a few minutes. Are you well enough to eat?"

My stomach grumbles in response. "I'll be
down in a minute."

Chapter 6

Turner picks up a piece of chalk and writes
on the board as he speaks. "Your next assignment is to create a
one-page sports section for the newspaper. You must photograph at
least three sporting events and they must be accompanied by a one
to two paragraph article."

Several groans rise up from the class, mine
among the loudest.

"This is a photojournalism class. I realize
most of you are in here for the photography aspect, but you do need
to know how to string together a sentence or two, especially if it
means the difference between your work getting published or not."
He turns to face us and his eyes settle on mine. "You have ten days
to work on this project and I can help you with the writing
portion," he scans the room and smirks, "as long as you aren't
calling me at home the Sunday night before it's due."

Several people laugh.

"We'll go over the details of the final
project next week, but in the meantime, here's a list of all the
games from today through next weekend." He hands a stack of papers
to the person at the head of each row and returns to his desk. "I'm
giving you two weekends since I know how busy your social lives
are." He rolls his eyes. "But don't put it off until next weekend.
Try to get at least one in tonight or tomorrow."

I glance down the list.
Track
. Ugh.
Football
. Also not my thing, but at least there
will be lots of other people there.
Soccer
. Amelia has a crush on Trace so I'm sure
she'd go to that with me. Maybe I can do two during the week and
save football for next weekend.

The bell rings and students file past
me.

"You doing anything after school?"

I startle at the deep voice next to me.
"Cam, you scared me!" I grab my bag and we walk to the door. "Just
homework, why?"

His dark hair falls over his forehead as we
step into the hall. He seems to hesitate.

I stop. Since when does he not just spit out
whatever he's thinking? "You okay?"

He turns to face me and rubs the back of his
neck. The tendons in his forearm flex and my gaze flits to his
bicep.

I shake my head.
What the fuck?

"I thought maybe we could go for a drive or
something."

"Sure," I say without understanding where
this is going. We've gone for drives before, but it usually just
happens. He's never actually asked me.

"Do you wanna meet by your car after class?"
His eyes dart over my shoulder and he bites his lower lip. If I
didn't know better, I'd swear he's nervous.

I reach out to touch his bare arm, but
hesitate. My hand falls back to my side. "You sure you're
okay?"

A small smile lifts the corner of his mouth
as he watches my hand twitch at my side. "I could use a friend
right now."